Wash Over Me
by delga
Summary: Post-ep for S1 finale. HC (if you want it to be). Calleigh deals with the aftermath.


**Wash Over Me**

Fandom: CSI: Miami

Category: H/C-ish. (In the sense that it can be viewed that way if you want it to)

Spoilers: S1 finale

Summary: _Then, setting the gun aside with the first pistol and six empty cartridges, she picked up a third and began the process all over again._

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**wash over me**

He knelt down in the warm sand and cleansed his hand in the cool and clear seawater. Another day, another case closed – another criminal behind bars where he belonged. Standing up, Horatio Caine let the refreshing Miami breeze wash over him, filling him with a sense of vitality, a renewed feeling of vigour, knowing that he had not lost; he had not given in to the villainous mind he had been battling.

Pausing for a moment, his thoughts wandered, as was often, to Ray. Ray, his brother who had never stopped fighting, had never given in and yet had finished in the greatest of all injustices – ashes to ashes, bullet to brain.

Turning away from the tide, he allowed himself a small smile. As with every case this one was for his brother. More importantly, it was for Emma Kane and her cousin Robyn who both survived the evil intentions of their would-be captor. They would live now, perhaps forever scarred, but alive in their innocence for a little while more.

Horatio glanced once more at the beach and then turned to leave the coast in quiet contemplation.

**--**

She fired the second gun; feet shoulder width apart, standing her ground as the weapon recoiled. Her arms were steady, her grip firm, her eyes focused on the target ahead of her. Her finger worked with automatic precision, pushing down repeatedly on the trigger. With the protective muffs over her ears, Calleigh Duquesne heard nothing but the distant shots she was firing.

As always, when the barrel emptied she slid on the safety catch, pulled out the magazine and made sure the bullets were indeed spent. Then, setting the gun aside with the first pistol and six empty cartridges, she picked up a third and began the process all over again.

As she fired round after round, Calleigh's mind wandered inevitably to the case – to her tears over Janet's death, her fear over her own life and her horrifying exhilaration as she pressed the nozzle of her gun to the perpetrator's head. They had a history – she had hunted him the way he hunted those around him and in that one moment, as she stood above him, her pistol to his temple, she realised that the power was in the decision: the decision to give life or to take it away.

As he was taken into custody, Calleigh couldn't stop shaking and even now, as she felt the reassuring ricochet move through her body, she was close to tears; her eyes misted and blurring.

Finally, unable to deny herself the indulgence, she slipped on the safety catch, put down the gun and slid to the floor, her body wracked with sobs as she let out her anguish – all the fury, hatred and sorrow that had built up over the past two days collected, peaked and washed over her.

**--**

He hadn't meant to return to the labs after the booking but he'd needed an excuse to get away from Yelina for a moment. His feelings over her were so clouded, so confused and the close confines were, at that moment, too much to clearly process.

So he had returned to the labs, remembering suddenly that Calleigh and Hagen had been following the escaped shooter. Cursing at his own forgetfulness, he looked through each of the labs, unable to find the petite Southern belle. He did, however, stumble upon Speedle who was lost in quietude as he packed away the oversized prints, ready to present for trial. Startling the young man from his reverie, he asked if Calleigh had been seen. Speedle shook his head and then spoke his intention to leave for the day. Horatio let him be and moved on.

Becoming increasingly frustrated in his quest, he almost began to fume when he smiled at his own mindlessness realising where she must be. Now more at ease, he made his way to the shooting gallery, comforted by the sound of quick range fire.

Leaving his gun at the front desk, he was about to enter the gallery with his eye and ear protection when the shooting stopped. He paused, knowing instinctively that not all of the rounds had been fired.

Walking to the door, he peered inquisitively through the small window and stood shock still.

_Oh Calleigh…_

**--**

In all her grief, she hadn't taken off the headset although the eyewear hung loosely from her slim, elegant hand. Her legs tucked beneath her, she was curled over; her weeping face in soiled hands.

In all her distress, she didn't hear the door swing slowly open, nor the soft padding footsteps or even the quiet crush of fabric as he knelt down beside her. He reached out one gentle hand to brush the hair from her face and she flinched, jumping to one side at the unexpected invasion of space.

What Horatio saw broke his heart.

Calleigh's large blue eyes were bruised from harrowing tears, her cheeks were pinched a delicate shade of rose. On seeing him, she quickly rubbed her sore face and pulled off the headset, her hands flurrying over her silken hair.

"Calleigh?"

She scrambled quickly to her feet, mumbling apologies and excuses, unable to face him: unable to look his in the eye. She went back to her booth, collecting the spent magazines, the pistols. All the while, he was silent, until in one shattering instant, she dropped the various items, the metal clattering to the floor, leaving her arms helplessly empty. She bit her lip then, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, leaning back against the ledge and hugging herself.

Restraint was too much for her and she couldn't stop the solitary tear; couldn't move to erase it for fear of collapsing.

"Calleigh, what's wrong?"

She looked up. She faced him. She saw his concern, his kind face, his comforting presence.

And she wept.

Leaving the words until later, Horatio said nothing as he stepped forward over the debris and enclosed her in his arms, holding her as the waves crashed inside her until eventually every last bastion had fallen and all that Calleigh had was her pain, her grief and her friend.

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**the end**


End file.
